Bullets and Blood
by Tallant5
Summary: Just what motivates the Batman? Bullets or Blood?


Bullets and Blood

By

Eric Garrison

(Specter722@aol.com)

Writers Note: Hey all, this is a story I put up on the World's Finest board a couple weeks ago. The following is a sequel of sorts to a Batman story from a few years ago called "Blind Justice", (although none of you have had to read the story to understand this one). Let me know what you think, and as always (when I sometimes writer, albeit rarely) comments are appreciated)

Shoot"   
One Shot   
"Shoot again"   
Two Shots   
"Again"   
The gun was put down.   
"What is the point of this Henry? I really don't see a purpose in using this".   
"Do you want to learn how to survive, or do want to learn how to die? Shoot".   
Bruce Wayne sighed as he looked up at his older mentor. Henry Ducard was teaching Bruce how to survive..in his own way. But what he didn't understand was, was that all his lessons seemed to focus around the gun. There didn't seem to be a point in this. He HATED guns. It what had caused him to be where he was today. He'd be damned if he were going to give in to Ducard's love for guns.   
"Stop that. Stop brooding and shoot the damn gun."   
Bruce scowled and shakily pointed the gun at the target before him. It seemed to waver in front of him. Each time he tried to will himself to point the gun, a part of him seemed to die and chip away with each shot. He wouldn't, no he refused to resort to such circumstance. There HAD to be a better way. He put the gun down and glared up at his mentor with steely resolve. "I hate guns. I refuse to continue with this 'lesson' of yours".   
Ducard backhanded Bruce across the face. "Fool". He snarled. "Why did you track me down then? You wanted to learn from me. If you want to survive as I have, then you need to resort to things like this. This is just a tool. If you don't use it, you will die in the long run. Either you shoot them, or they shoot you first".   
"Then you are a coward".   
With a cry of rage, Ducard prepared for another backhand slap at Bruce. With what seemed to be some kind of fluid motion, Bruce took Ducard's hand, twisted it and put him to the ground. "As I said". Bruce twisted Ducard's arm behind his back. "There are better ways". Bruce let go of Ducard's arm.   
Ducard got up and glared at the boy who thought he knew everything and laughed. "Fine. You want to last in the streets? You think some punk will just sit there and let you try to hit them? They will shoot you first to the grand. No fancy karate moves will save you with a bullet in between your brow." Ducard pointed to the door that was outside of the shooting range. "Our lessons are over 'John Smith' of you refuse to use a gun, then you are of no further use to me. You will end up in a casket".   
Bruce just looked at Ducard the way a parent looks at a troubled child; with pity. Before Ducard could react, Bruce left the building.   
18 years later   
The city had come back from hell. Plagues, Earthquakes, Anarchy, he had survived all of these with his wits and determination. It was times like this, when he felt some kind of need to get above it all, that he found himself looking over the entire city of Gotham. The place he was standing on was known as 'Gotham Gulch', built in the early 1800's by a revolutionary fanatic. It was meant to rival 'The Tower of Babel', obviously it didn't reach to the heavens. But it did the job. It had withstood the wears and tears of time, and even earthquakes.   
Batman felt a certain kinship with this steel structure. Ugly and perceived on the outside by criminals and normal citizens alike, it was one of Gotham's less popular attractions. Batman felt the same way. But beneath it all, it seemed to serve a purpose, almost a kind of lighthouse of sorts for the city. It towered over it and seemed to defend it from outside threats. Batman felt that they both had a lot in common.   
What more was there to it? He was serving the mission and was at piece. But why did it also seem to be falling apart? Original Gothamites and those who had left during the earthquake, were at war with each other. Batman was just one person, even with the help of his 'family, he couldn't seem to contain the civil war that almost seemed to tear Gotham apart. He needed refuge right now. There had to be more actions that needed to be taken. He just didn't know what. With a sigh, Batman pulled a line, and leapt into the water depths of blackness that always threatened to engulf him.

******

  
Sandra Sullivan had a hard life. Left an orphan at the age of four, she had to live by her wits constantly. She had moved through house to house in her young adolescence, never staying at a home for more than a few weeks. Finally, when she had turned 18, she had booted out into the streets to fend for herself. At 5 foot 10, long brown hair that seemed to cascade down endlessly and a curvaceous body, she was nothing short of stunning. This had helped her in and out of several difficult situations. At 26 though, she felt like she had her life together. She had just come to Gotham with the promise of a new promotion, that of the whole east coast. It seemed to be worth the price. Gotham was reborn, and several new businesses wanted to put their stake into the bit.   
The problem was though, was that nobody wanted to come into the new city, Old legends died hard, and tales of corruption and strokes of bad lucks till floated around the myth of Gotham City. It was only through new incentives that some people finally came over to the new Companies. Sandra was one of them. Walking though at 10 at night on the Main Street wasn't one of the upper benefits. As if in response to this, 2 voices could be heard from the upcoming alley.   
"Pretty lady…Can I touch her Staz?"   
"Shut up Ringo', she's mine. Remember the last one? You had all the fun with that one. We were left with the smell of her for weeks on you. Whatever it was that you did with her". The second voice snickered.   
Sandra stopped to a halt, she breathed in at a low and slow rate, and be calm she told herself, It always happens to someone else she thought.   
Unfortunately this was no the case. 2 forms stepped out of the shadows. Both of them looked like they were barely out of junior high school. One had spiky green hair and 'tattered punks' look to him. While the other one was short and had black hair and had the eyes of a small beady animal. More like...a rat she thought.   
"Hey lady want a good time? Ill show you what a real man can do for you? You look like you haven't been touched in awhile. I'll be glad to oblige and provide my services. Just take a step in this alleyway here and we'll get it on". The tall one took his hand forward and bowed after the comment. Meanwhile, the rat like one just stood there and glared at her with what seemed to be the eyes of a predator.   
Sandra stepped back from the two thugs, "Get away from me" She hissed. "I'm not in the mood to deal with jerks like you. You're not worth my time".   
This last comment only made the two thugs angry, "Why you little witch" Roared Staz, he lunged for Sandra's still form. Meanwhile the second one, 'Ringo' as he was called still stood there.   
As the form of Staz reached for Sandra, Sandra neatly sidestepped while Staz fell flat on his face.   
"As I said," She grunted. "You're not worth my time". With that she kicked the fallen thug in the head and he seemed to go unconscious.   
A soft croon could be heard behind Sandra as she walked away from the fallen thug. "Preettty Laddddyyyy". Sandra started to break into a run, she wouldn't try to defend herself with that kind of person.   
It was too late, with what seemed to be arms of steel, the little thug grabbed her from behind and hit her to the ground. "You will be mine". A fierce kind of madness came into his eyes at this comment, a peculiar kind of obsession. "You will join me tonight at my home. That wasn't very nice of you with what you did with my friend!" The man was no angry. He shoved Sandra's form to the ground, she was almost helpless before him. She had to at least try some kind of move!   
She grabbed for the thug and paid the price for it. The thug shoved Sandra back into the ground. "Pretty lady make me angry! That's not very nice! You will join me tonight!" a blackness was beginning to form at the edge of Sandra's senses. Far away she saw the struggling form of the second thug getting up. She could hear a deep threat coming from the second thug.   
"You're gonna pay for what you did witch. We're gonna cut you up good".   
Before this could be acted upon, a shadow seemed to spring up from where there was no shadow. It silently stalked towards the two thugs, "You will leave her alone" it rasped. With a quick lightning motion and a flash of the cape, both thugs were knocked with a flurry of blows that had them lying in the corner. As if satisfied with it's deed done, the shadow tied them up and left them in the corner. It was about to launch off until Sandra made a quick comment.   
"So you're just a man after all, not a bat creature". 

The shadow tensed at this and seemed to shrink in itself until it seemed to take the form of a man. A very tired man. Batman looked at her wearily.   
"Miss it's been a hard night. Go home."   
Sandra laughed at this, "I just about get raped by two juveniles and you tell me to just go home? That's it? What gives you the right to tell a person what to do? For all you know, I can be deeply traumatized! It seems to me that you only add to the trauma caused by this horrible situation".   
"Miss, I just saved your life, please go home .It's strange enough to me that I see a women laugh at what seriously is deeply traumatic for other people. Go home". With that, the tired form of the man threw a line and swung out into the night.   
Sandra smirked at the last comment. "Interesting indeed" She mused. " A man who dresses up as a bat and tells what other people to do" With that, she got up and walked away from the unconscious forms of the two thugs. Police sirens could be heard in the distance.   
  
*********************************   
Sometimes I find myself wondering, is it all worth it? More and more these days, crime increases and people who I supposedly 'save' get stranger. Gotham still has its share of crime. I've been here for 16 years. 16 years of agony it seems. I came here at the beginning to change things in Gotham. I even remember when I told the underworld that they had 'fed on Gotham', 'there feast was about to end'. It was something along those lines.   
Does it ever end though? Night after night I find myself wondering if I should have taken some other path. I find myself becoming something else these days. Something of a dictator. Certain events have forced me to take things to the extremes. Plus it has only has caused pain for those around me. My parents are dead, most people by my age have who have encountered similar situations have at least dealt with the trauma in some way by now. But I seem to almost relive it every night, along with my past failures. Jason died because of me, and Barbara was crippled because of me. Oh I'm sure I've done some good. But what about to the people I love? Is this 'sacrifice' of mine even worth it anymore? 

****  
One bullet. One bullet was all it took. He looked at the form of Batman, jumping the rooftops, leaping into endless air and seemed to go between each building with some kind of fluid motion. This is his element, he mused. Almost like a toy playground. He's still stuck in that honor code of his. That will be his downfall, and that is why I must destroy him. 

****  


16 years ago   
Wind, cutting wind blew into his face as he tried to concentrate. He had heard about the Japanese priest from the local 'peasant's'. It seemed old prejudices didn't die here in Japan. The local businessmen were the form of "Daimyo's', while the various executives could be looked upon as 'samurai'. The average citizens were still 'peasants'. From them he had heard about the ancient Buddhist monk, the one who refused to bend to the new ways from the 'Hated Christians'.   
Finally, after several bribes and promises, Bruce Wayne found himself in front of the ancient Buddhist temple. After waiting in patience for a few minutes, Bruce knocked loudly on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again.   
No answer   
Finally he forced the door open with all his strength and found a dark desolate hallway that opened up before him. At the end of the hallway he could see an old man squatting in contemplation of something.   
Bruce cautiously stepped up silently to the back of the man.   
"Why are you here?" Asked the old man.   
Bruce, surprised that his stalking had been detected said, "To learn from you ancient master. I heard from the locals about your teachings. I want to learn about the practice of the Samurai. The true Samurai".   
"Why do you want to learn about an art that has been dead for centuries?"   
This made Bruce think silently for a moment. "Because I hate the gun. It caused the death of those I loved and has caused nothing but pain for me".   
"That is a foolish reason". The old priest replied.   
Bruce could still only see the back of the priest, he was covered in a large robe, and it was impossible to make out the features of the man.   
"I do not believe so Honored Elder. I want to avenge the deaths of my loved ones, as a samurai I feel a duty to my clan, my people. I want to stop the same thing from happening again to other people".   
"That is a clearer reason". Answered the priest. "You speak of ancient clans and ties to your 'clan'. If your loved ones are dead, then who is your clan to defend young one?"   
"My people of my city. They are my responsibility, my clan helped create the city in which my people reside. I hope to, by the ancient code of samurai to defend my family's legacy".   
The old one turned around and stared deep into Bruce's eyes.   
Even Bruce took a couple steps back. The presence of this man was astounding, he had the simple face of an old man and he looked as if he was about to drop dead. But in this case, the eyes were truly the gateway to the soul. In those eyes Bruce saw pain, tragedy, and even triumph. The wisdom of the ages.   
"That is a better reason. Speak more clearly next time and do not waste my precious last few years upon this earth". Snapped the elder. "But at what cost are you willing to make this transition? For the modern ways I can see our strong in your blood and, ..even some old ways". He mused. "You will have to give up personal attachments. You will have to build a wall around yourself, so others can not see you, or even sense you. This will cause rifts between your 'modern relationships' with other people, family friends, whichever you hold dear". An ominous tone hung in the air from the last comment.   
"I am prepared for that and even more honored elder. I ask you to be my Daimyo, and me to be your vassal. I will carry your ancient ways into the New World. I will use the ancient codes of honor to defend the people I do love. For if I forsake that, then my life is not even worth living".   
"Good" Nodded the old man. "But are you willing to kill?"   
Bruce took a firm stance and tried to return the stance and stare that the old teacher had given him earlier. "I will not take a life, ever". He growled. "I believe in the absolute sanctity of human lie. But I will punish, so that criminals can suffer here on earth".   
"You are a fool". The old man said bluntly. "You live in two spheres. That of the west and the east. You believe in honor, but also in Buddhism neh?. This is what priest try to attain and even samurai".   
"Then it is an honorable way Ancient one?" Said Bruce.   
"It is a stupid way. For true happiness can only be that of karma. The way of the samurai demands that you destroy your enemies". The old man's fist shook at this last statement. "But.I will teach you. Why you wonder? Because out of all the people that have come to my door, you still, despite your foolish views. Have the internal spirit of the samurai. One day you will come to a fulcrum. Will you not kill and abuse the code of samurai, or will you choose to kill and die honorably as a samurai to be reborn in the next life?". The old man's eyes glittered in the dark. "There I cannot help you, your way lies tied to the past, and I can see a tragedy has marked your karma".   
"But this will drag you down if you elevate on the past too much. You must be ever attuned to the present. From here today on you will be reborn, as a samurai of two spheres".   
Bruce bowed to the floor, in the way that a vassal would to his honored lord. "I will learn all you ask, and try to keep my commitments. In this life and the next".   
****  
Now   
Sandra had still been thinking of the previous night. What an interesting creature she mused. I must meet this man, and see what motivates him to risk his life for others. Sandra had been working for the past few days and could only think about her prior experience the night before. Over and over again, she couldn't understand why a man would choose to risk his life for people so selflessly. She had grown up among selfish people and had a hard life. The only person she could ever count on was herself. But until last night she had been independent and that had been taken from her. She hated it, the need to rely on others. That is what the cowled man had done to her. But who did he rely on? She wondered. She had to find out.   
------   
There was only a rock. His mind was the rock, sheltered from all life around him. Noting could draw him away from this. He stood against the waters and tides that tried to take him down. Even here after all these years, the old man's lessons had stayed with him. Indeed, they were a part of him. he had built a wall around himself, he had trusted confidants. But even they still did not know his innermost thoughts. Her was samurai. Hi responsibility was to himself and the people of his city. He was a Daimyo in his own right now.   
Alfred Pennyworth came down the stairs and looked at the kneeling form of Bruce on the ground. "I take it that you have taken to your brooding again sir?. If you want I can put on some television if you wish. For that is what children that brood see. It's what seems to make them happy. I recommend Pokemon sir. It is the favorite of children these days. Even though it is a horrid and distasteful thing".   
Though the old ways still stuck with Bruce, he could never find people that could take him seriously. In Alfred's eyes he would always be a child. But that's how it was with children and their parents. They ever grew up in their parent's eyes.   
"What do you want Alfred?" Asked a weary Bruce.   
Bruce was tired Alfred noticed. Perhaps that was why the master was brooding he thought. "Well Master Bruce, I could see your own weariness and I only thought you needed a little cheering up". His tone became serious. "Bruce..what is wrong? If you need to talk about something, for once talk to em of all people. I think you have earned my trust after all these years."   
Conflicting emotions went through Bruce's face as it contorted with his emotions. He had always kept to himself the most, that way he kept his outer family safe. No secrets would be drawn from him to threaten his family. But in a way, Alfred was his father. And in the code of the samurai, fathers and mother's wishes must always be obeyed. Even to great Daimyo's. Suprisingly, the shields came down.   
Bruce sighed, "Alfred, I'm tired. Am I making a true difference? I only keep the criminals alive out there to go out and hunt again on their hapless victims. A few days ago I noticed some punks attacking a women, and in here eyes I saw the same thing that always happens. Fear.and Blame. I almost took something away from her with that look. I can't place it, but maybe I'm just breaking down lately. I've endured too many things. I look at myself in the mirror and I don't know what I see there".   
Bruce shakily put his hands to his face. "I don't like what's there. I'm becoming something of a hypocrite. Maybe I should take more extreme measures?"   
Alfred looked at the man whom he thought of as a son and said, "Sir., you do more than any man should rightfully do, and you even push that to the limits. I think Sir, that maybe you should take time to put things into perspective. I've never once questioned your methods over the years, but there was never a time that I didn't respect you."   
Bruce looked up at Alfred with a quick look of gratefulness, "Thank you Alfred. But I still think more should be done."   
Alfred, tired of this useless argument broke out into an angry roar, "Sir! Maybe it's time for you to grow up. You cannot stop crime. It will always be there. It seems sir, that maybe you should hang up that dreadful costume of yours and live as a man. That's all your parents, and I, ever wanted for you". With that, Alfred turned about face and walked back up the stairs of the Batcave.   
But didn't he have a responsibility to his people? There comes a time though when a man needs to take responsibility for his own actions. Perhaps the time for it was now.   
----------   
He knew who the Batman was, oh yes, that arrogant student of his from so many years ago. It was him that took all the glory from him. 'John Smith' had driven a wedge into his own hope and dreams. Yearly, across the sea from America, Henry Ducard heard about the famous exploits of the Batman and his loathing for violence. Ducard hated it, it proved him wrong.   
What is a man he thought who does not get the job done? This rebellious student of mine from so long ago has proved everything I taught to be a lie. He has put a wedge into my own being. I have always thought we both got the job done in our own way. For a few years ago I even thought we were alike, but much to my anger the student has escaped this judgment of mine and still lived without that 'hated gun' of his. I've allowed this to grow over the years Ducard realized. I don't care anymore, if there's no purpose to my life anymore, what is the reason for living? Maybe once I kill him, the Batman will vanish from my conscience and I will be whole again. That is why, tomorrow night when I see him on his usual route, I will do what I told him would be his downfall, I will put a bullet in his head.   
Henry Ducard took his weapon of choice and held it in a caress, he looked at it lovingly. Together you and I, he thought will show who is right and who is wrong it he end. The gun happened to be the same model of one that Bruce Wayne had seen as a child....   


How does he do it? Night after night, day after day. He keeps up with this relentless mission of his. It seems to almost out of the question that his parent's deaths would cause him to go to such extremes. My own parent's died when I was young. I remember my father briefly. HE was a large intimidating man that liked to drink a lot. He would always say, "Son, Don't trust the outside world. They'll screw you over. You have to be hard and take it like a man." Shortly after, my father died of alcoholism. I've never forgotten his words of failed to take it to heart. People have always been jealous of my skill to hunt down the criminal, after all am I not like him? We are the same. The hunter and beast, it doesn't matter the situation. Sometimes I have been near to death, it had cradled and nurtured me in the dark.. I let it within myself and I grew into..What I currently am.   
That's why I hate this 'John Smith'. I have killed, raped, pillaged. In order to devour the beast I have become it. He is above all this it seems. Somehow he hunts these criminals down, but in the process he doesn't become them. Maybe it's because he's delusional. Why else would he dress in tights and jump around with those toys of his? Maybe he is insane in his own right and that's why he does what he does. Does he feel a commitment to the people of this city? Does he owe them for some reason? I cannot fathom why. But he has been a mockery of all that I have learned and I must stop him, or else my father's own words were a lie, if that is so, then I am nothing.   
*******   
She hated him. But was also strangely fascinated by this creature that danced with it's prey and came out stronger because of it. All her life she had fended for herself refusing to take any aid or help. She was proud of this fact. But why did she now have this urge to rely on someone or even care for them? She found herself walking the streets at night, looking for any sign of the man who had saved her. She just found a calling and couldn't quite explain it. She now found herself in a spot that many had dubbed as "Crime Alley", She had heard that the Batman frequented this spot for some strange reason. As if he felt some strange commitment to it.   
While it was called Crime Alley, there was no crime. In all the years the Batman had operated, this place had become a safe haven for those in Gotham City. Indeed, it seemed to be the only spot left that one felt any relative safety. She put her arms around herself and shivered from the cold that seemed to seep into every pore of this place. She couldn't help it, there seemed to be some tragedy that forever had turned this place into a graveyard. Clutching herself even more, she entered the tomb of Crime Alley.   
****  
Commitment, Obsession. These were the trademarks of his personality. He had steeled himself against any thing that would harm his sake of duty, but at the cost of a harsh moral code. He had grown tired of doing the same thing every night. Alfred had suggested, "be Human". Perhaps he should go to the start of it where it all began, make things come full circle. With a scowl of determination, Batman roared the Batmobile to life and set out for Crime Alley. 

*****  
The buildings were cracked into almost nothing. Tonight was the night where he would prove his superiority over that foolish student of his. The gun was there; everything was perfect. With the moon full, Ducard set out for the biggest place of his opponent's weakness, Crime Alley. 

****  
Why was she here? The cold screamed at her and threatened to tear her apart. With as much determination s she could muster, she simply…waited. She didn't know why she felt the strong compulsion to stay at this one spot under such a dusty and musky lamp. But it felt as if something had marked it for an ending and beginning.   
"Why are you here? I thought you had learned by now not to come in seedy places at night".   
Sandy turned around and was surprised to look at the approaching form of Batman. "Why are you here?" She asked. "Why do you risk yourself each night for people you don't even know? You took something from me, my independence. I want it back."   
If the Batman was disturbed by Sandra's comment, he didn't show it. "Miss Sullivan, I merely tried to help you along on what looked to be a dangerous situation. If you would rather have been killed then that is your own problem". With what she could now see as stiffness in his actions, the Batman turned around to go deeper into his shadowy element.   
She ran up to the retreating form of Batman and took him by the shoulder. "Oh no you don't!" She threatened. "Your not going to pull one of your vanishing acts on me, not tonight, not now".   
The Batman turned around at her and glared, "Just what is your problem Miss? Any activities you wish to peruse are no business of mine. I leave you to your whining, good day". With an even more stoic look to him, Batman turned around again to walk away, but was again interrupted.   
"You stupid silly fool!" She shouted, "You go around in that Halloween outfit of yours and dispense you version of justice to those who might not even want it or need it. Can't you just ever take down those shields of yours and be human? I wonder what kind of man you are, to ditch people and not even wait for them to say thanks.. I.." She started to break down into tears.   
Batman looked at this strong woman, breaking down in front of him, becoming a wreck. What did he do to cause this behavior in her? He wondered. The shields threatened to grow even harder in him, but something stopped them. Something called compassion.   
"Miss. I."   
"What" She glared at him. "What do you want to say?"   
"A long time ago at this place something happened to me. My dependence was taken away from me from those I loved. I vowed that what happened to me would never happen to anyone else. Since then I have alienated others in this outlook". Why was he telling her this? He wondered. Simple. He was only human. "My own son, in front of me died in this line of work. But I continue, it's an obsession. I can't help myself. You can even say it's an addiction. It was my fault he died, it's my entire fault. My parents died because of my failure".   
Sandra looked at this dark statue that seemed to shrink away and reveal itself to be.. Human? She was amazed at the transformation that was taking place before her. Everyone had always wondered what the Dark Knight made to do what he did. It was simple. He was a child. 

Someone who wanted to punish the wicked. But wasn't everyone a child inside she wondered? Maybe this was just a sign of a man who had lost everything. Like her he was an orphan, but even more, he had lost a son. She couldn't begin to fathom this man's obsession. Her anger turned to compassion, she wanted to prey into the depths of this man's personality, find out what ticked. This was why she had been angry, in all her life; he was the only one that had cared for her. And she wanted to find out why. She out put her hand out to his face.   
Batman shuddered from her touch, it was electric, and it was stunning. It was human. She was a beautiful woman, long desires repressed rose up in him. She was incredible. He wanted to embrace her. He took the hand to his face and threw it down, it could not be. Not now, not today, he had lost too much. He wouldn't be responsible for this woman to be harmed. The shields came back up. "Miss". His tone became cold, even threatening. "I'm sorry that I have taken up your time, I must leave". Despite her advances, he left, to go back to the night that was welcome to embrace him and engulf him.   
"Ah Wayne, maybe that's why you do what you do, for the love of a woman. People have done stupider reasons".   
Batman was shocked to see the approaching form of someone he thought he would never see again, Henry Ducard.   
"What are you doing here Ducard", rasped Batman.   
"Why Wayne, you should know the old reasons. A while ago, I thought we were the same, you and I. But much to my own anger, you changed and became something different. It brings up our old argument. What is right, Blood or Bullets? The bullet wills top them, but you instead you use your blood to assuage the oncoming onslaught of criminals.".   
"Who cares?" Batman said. "Your an old man now Ducard, shouldn't you have grandkids by now? Then again with your foolish lifestyle, I'm sure like many of the maniacs I face, you blame me for all your problems".   
Ducard was taken back by this abrupt message from Wayne, "You can't know how I think". Growled Ducard. "I taught you what you are, I made you, and I shall break you. Each night you mock me, I decided the best way to end it all for you is to use the gun you despise. Why the very gun your parents were killed with". Ducard proceeded to take the gun out of his pocket. "As I said, bullets and blood Wayne, your death will be by bullets. You'll finally join your parents as you try to do each night. Why else are you out here each night? You want to die. You want to join them. Here, I'll make it easier for you."   
Sandra looked upon this whole proceeding with was just a look of shocked wonder. He was..Bruce Wayne? But everyone knew he was an idiot. Of course. It made sense. Everyone also knew about the highly publicized death of his parents. That's why he was here. Imagine she thought, the rich weren't all corrupt. They're just like us, tortured and wounded by blood.   
The Batman grew darker, his cape flared. The night seemed to become his element as he came to approach Ducard. His face become blackness and the only approaching thing Ducard could see were hands that would break him.   
A look of fear came to Ducard's old features, he started babbling. "No, no! I am not one of your freak show villains that you like to play with! I'm more than that can you hear me?! I'm your better!" He started to wildly shoot his gun, to anyone that was in the way.   
"No!" Shouted Sandra, She raced up and took a bullet in the side and fell to the ground. She stopped a bullet that would have gone straight into the Batman's head.   
"No!" Screamed Batman, he gently put Sandra to the ground and in a rage that broke his samurai code, came at Ducard. "I'll get you for what you've done you old fool! You caused an innocent woman to die? Where is that in your code of yours?"   
Ducard backed away, and then turned his head down in shame. The Batman stopped and looked at the still form of Ducard. Ducard started to laugh nervously, "Heh, I can see now. I am an old man. It seems the way your way might be the right one. So be it, but I won't change in my ways. I refuse to. I'll die by it before I break it". Before Batman could stop him, he took the gun, put it into his mouth and discharged the gun. Ducard slumped to the ground.   
Batman was stunned by the proceedings, but no matter how hard he wanted to ignore, a part of if was glad Ducard was gone. For now, there was the girl to worry about.   
She was on the ground, slumped in an almost deathlike pose, a lot like the pose of someone he had lost long ago. He took her into her arms and then he knew what he must do. 

****  
She woke up with a start and looked at her surroundings, it was a hospital room and it was empty, except for a shadow that looked like it did not belong. "I can see you" She murmured. "Is this the kind of thing you put up with every night?"   
The shadow detached itself from the wall and spoke softly, "Pretty much." "I just came to see you safe Miss Sullivan".   
Sandra looked kindly now at the shadowed form, "I can see why you do what you do, but you can't just stop?"   
The shadow looked down upon itself. "I can't it's grown to be a part of me".   
"That's the first step toward recovery" She smiled.   
"Well, if that's all Miss Sullivan I will be going. I hope you forgive me for any trouble I may have caused you".   
Before he could leave, Sandra spoke in a determined tone. "No" She said firmly. "Will you stay with me for one night? Just hold my hand? I think I need that".   
The shadow shrinked again and became a tired man. "All right" He said. He held her hand, and in the background, the police sirens of the city grew louder in the night.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
